“I wish I could help you, sir,” he said. “I am sure we are all ready to do our best.”
“I know that, Dunbar, and all are needed. Major Duff has gone out badly injured. The only officers remaining unhurt in the front line are Major Bayne and Captain Fraser, both of whom are splendidly carrying on. And you, too, have given great help to-day. Colonel James assures me that your initiative and resourcefulness were of the greatest service to him. Oh, by the way, a message came through in a letter the other day, that I should have sent you, but other things put it out of my mind, I am sorry to say.” He touched a bell. “You see I had to tell your wife, Dunbar, of your determination to stay by us,” he added with a smile. “Get me my private post-bag, please,” he said to the orderly. He selected a letter from a packet, opened it, and pointed to a page. Barry recognised the handwriting as his wife's. He read:
“I need not assure you it was none of my family's doing to get that appointment for Barry. I was not surprised that he declined it, but then you see I know Barry. He is at the place where I would want him to be.”
Barry kept his eyes steadily upon the words until he should be sure of his voice. His heart was thrilling with pride in the girl who had given herself to him. As the moments passed, he there and then vowed that by God's grace, he would not shame her nor belie her trust in him.
“Thank you, sir,” he said quietly, handing the letter back.
“Helps a bit, eh, what?” said the general. “We can't let our women down, can we?”
“No, sir,” said Barry. “Is there nothing I can do?” His voice was as steady and quiet as the general's.
“Oh, thank you, just the C. C. S., I fancy, at present.”
At that point the door opened, and the corps commander came in, wearing a very tired and anxious face.
“Bad business, general,” he said, with a single word of greeting and ignoring Barry.